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Wednesday, March 09, 2011

I can't believe it's taken us so long to get around to visiting this ancient city. With Mum here for her third Christmas in Japan we feel we really ought to do something different. So, we've got a hotel in Kyoto and a trip on the Shinkansen (bullet train) to look forward to.

Tim visited Kyoto earlier in the year for the G8 Summit and managed to see a little of the city. Mum is really excited about the trip as am I. The Shinkansen wasn't as beautiful or as comfortable as one would expect; the front looked more like a duck than a bullet or plane and the seats were very hard. But it was fast and we arrived in Kyoto at lunchtime.

The signs on the seat backs made me smile. (Click on the picture to be able to read the information!)

We can't spend as long as I'd like in Kyoto as it's very expensive. Since the Lehman Brothers' crash the yen has strengthened to an incredible high. When we first arrived in Japan one UK pound would buy us about 245 yen. Now it's nearer 125 yen. We get paid in sterling and have to exchange it, so in effect we are trying to survive in one of the most expensive countries in the world on half our pay. This means we will try to fit in as much of the "must sees" as possible in a short time.

Luckily, Kyoto is small compared to Tokyo and everything seems to be within walking distance. Except we have Mum, who is feeling her age a little, and Rhiannon who doesn't 'do' walking. Also it is extremely cold here. Much colder than Tokyo, and we passed snow covered fields on the way.

Our / my list of "must sees" are as follows:

Nijo-jo Castle – famous for its "Nightingale" floor that "chirps" when you walk on it to warn of possible intruders.

Gion: Antique Row – potential shopping.

Kiyomizu Dera - Tim visited this when he was here for the Summit and recommended it.

Ginkaku-ji (The Silver Pavilion) – "Restraint, elegance, wabi sabi. Ginkaku-ji is perhaps the pinnacle of Japanese artistic expression. Best known for its stone gardens (built to reflect the moon) and simple buildings"

Kinkakuji Temple (The Gold Pavilion) – possibly the most well-known and most-photographed temple in the country.

Ryoanji Temple - the most famous Zen rock garden in Japan.

Kyoto Handicraft Centre – more shopping!

We will have our work cut out for us to visit all these.

As usual, I forgot to bring the visitors guide, so we have to rely on a tourist map from the hotel to work out our itinerary. Almost immediately we cross off the Silver Pavilion as it's on the opposite side of town to everything else.

So we head off, walking, to the Nijo-jo Castle. It was quite a distance, but an interesting, flat and easy walk.

It was closed! Damn me for forgetting the guidebook - it would have told us that it closes over Christmas and New Year.

We went for dinner instead, then wandered around the fascinating streets near our hotel for a while. Most of the shops there sold specialist local sweets and food.

Tuesday, March 01, 2011

In the northern Japanese Alps lies a ski resort in the Nagano Prefecture called Hakuba. There are two seasons here – the white season and the green season. Skiing or no snow, basically. Its claim to fame is that it was the location for some of the 1998 Winter Olympics events.

It took us ages to get there – about 5 hours if memory serves. Japan has a strange road system when it gets to the mountains. Marvellous views abound and just as you see something particularly beautiful, the road turns into a tunnel right through the mountain so you can't see anything. Some of these tunnels are literally miles long. I'm sure the engineering is to be admired, but I would prefer to admire a view of nature.

Tim's booked us into a lovely hotel recommended by people more wealthy than us… he still complains about the cost now! But it was absolutely beautiful and wonderful to see a little bit more of Japan. There was a Jacuzzi bath outside on the balcony and an almost private onsen next to our room. I am not allowed into public onsen (natural hot volcanic spring baths) as I have tattoos which are banned here. But I took a look and nobody was in there so I was finally able to experience this very Japanese activity. My word it was HOT! But the sulphurous water was very soothing and made my skin extremely soft.

The restaurant was special and we were entertained by a minute little girl of no more than 2 years old who was running around with glee. At one point she was hurtling through a door when we appeared on the other side ready to take our table. Instantly she came to a halt, stood to one side and bowed deeply and very formally to us. She was enchanting and I still can't quite get over her graceful and natural manners. It's incredible how this can be instilled into one so young, yet there it was. Her parents were nowhere to be seen so there was no prompting from them. It was completely natural to her. I think it's a deeply ingrained respect for others that is sadly and severely lacking in the UK.

How often do we have to remind our children to say a simple "please" or "thank you" before it finally sinks in to become as natural as that? I wish I know how they do it!

Monday, February 28, 2011

I now call Tokyo "home", not the UK. Whereas Tim still refers to going to the UK as "going home". Not sure whether this has any bearing on anything, just something I've noticed.

So now it's time for Rhiannon and I to get ourselves back home where Tim will meet us at the airport.

Ignoring the horror that is Heathrow airport, I made a quick trip to the Chanel store and bought a pair of shoes. There's no way I can find my size in Japan; my feet aren't huge at size 41-42 but over here that's a man's size – so I was thrilled to find a pair in Heathrow that fitted me. I paid and off we went. Unfortunately, I discovered later that I'd used the joint account card instead of my own so had a bit of a moment when Tim found out the price. Oops! He was actually very cool about it, thankfully!

The flight was pretty uneventful and, thanks to the Nintendo I got some peace and even managed to sleep for a few hours. However, I did panic a little when I woke up to find Rhiannon had disappeared. It turned out she was at the bar (I love Virgin Atlantic. Bars on planes, perfect!) chatting to the crew and random people as if she was princess of the air.

Landing at the slick, empty and hassle-free Narita airport we shot through in about 30 minutes; from plane to outside to meet Tim. In all the excitement of meeting up with Jane and Eve, we'd neglected to tell him about Rhiannon's radical haircut and he didn't recognise her, much to her delight!

Tim wasn't the only one to get a surprise. I got two.

Firstly, it seems that Tim has promised Rhiannon she can have a hamster. I don't like hamsters – I'll explain why later.

Secondly, something far more pleasing; Tim has booked us a couple of trips. Next week we will be visiting a place in the Japanese mountains called Hakuba and the week after that Rhiannon and I will join Tim on his regular business trip to Seoul, South Korea. How exciting!

Friday, February 25, 2011

Although Exeter city centre is within just-about-walkable-distance from the house, it's a bit too far with children and with Jane still fairly weak I drove us all up there and parked in a car park at the edge of town.

Off we wandered, looking at the shops, getting coffee and a sit down, browsing the books and magazines before finally ending up at the other end of town outside Hawkins Bazaar. Rhiannon was on the verge of kicking off about getting get another toy when she'd already been spoiled enough. I was tired through lack of sleep when suddenly I remembered the stupid parking system in Britain.

Hells bells! It was a Pay and Display car park and I hadn't done either!! OMG (I had to get that in here somewhere.)

Car parks in Japan are all sensible. Either you take a ticket at the barrier on the way in and pay for the time you've spent in there on the way out. Or in other car parks a clever raised clamp thing pops up under your car so you can't leave until you've paid at the machine (each parking space is numbered, so you tap in your bay number, pay and the clamp lowers).

So I made Rhiannon come with me all the way back to the car park, hoping against hope that we hadn't been clamped of fined or towed away. Thankfully, none of these had happened. So I paid and displayed – eventually.

Friday, February 04, 2011

Driving to school one day I pointed out an old Routemaster red double decker bus to Rhiannon. Just in a matter of fact way as she's never been to London. I told her I used to catch one of those to work sometimes.

Then I did a double take.

Hang about! A red double decker bus is a LONDON inhabitant, and not normally seen outside its normal environs of the Big Smoke. What on earth was one doing trundling its way down Meiji Dori, Harajuku? And more to the point, how the hell did it get here? These beasts are not known for their flying abilities but it had obviously migrated somehow.

It turned out to be a tourist bus and inside is a bar!

Japan has strong links with Britain as the British Embassy in Tokyo is the oldest surviving consulate, which was built in 1906. A Japanese diplomat in London persuaded London Transport to donate one of these wonderful buses to Japan.

Nice to know these typically English buses have a new lease of life. They'll like it here.

Monday, January 31, 2011

As you may have read here, Tim's Landrover died in spectacular fashion. (I didn't get the technical facts right, apparently, but never mind; the end result was the same).

He managed to find a breakers yard – very rare here – and the manager came and somehow drove the clanking heap of junk away, enveloped in clouds of black smoke. This was quite a sight! You just do not see old, knackered vehicles on the roads here at all. Even lorries carrying rubble are polished and chromed to mirror-like perfection.

I have a little runaround Toyota (Corolla in the UK) for the school run and stuff. Poor Tim has been reduced to fighting the rush hour metro squeeze. A long and uncomfortable journey involving a train change which requires a nearly 1km walk between stations. Now he may know how I felt doing the school run <evil cackle!>

So he's been looking at getting another car and I just figured he'd get another Landrover, as he's always been such a geek about them. But he's got cross with them and all the work they entail. Instead, he's been looking at "ordinary cars". It's against his (and my) nature to buy a brand new car. I used to be in car sales so know the depreciation as soon as they are driven off the forecourt. Such a waste of money. However, the secondhand car market here is extremely difficult to track down. Japanese like brand new cars.

One day he phoned me to ask "Do you like Celicas?"

Silly question – he knows darn well I love Celicas.

"Yes, you know I do. Why?"

"Well, someone here at work is leaving early and wants to sell his". (Why on earth would anyone want to leave Tokyo early?) OK, I guess that's not the point really…

Tim continued, "It's a convertible, are you OK with that?"

"WHAAAAA?! Yes, of COURSE I'm OK with that. When can we get it?"

So we got the gorgeous Celica and I now pose around with the lid down. Lots of non-car people at school think it's some kind of supercar and I get a lot of envious looks (and probably snippy comments behind my back) but who cares? It's gorgeous! And apparently very rare in the UK. We think we may ship it back when we leave here.

Oh and the GPS speaks English too. That's quite a strange change after a year or so of getting directions in Japanese. "Slight right turn" "Traffic congestion ahead"… usually when I'm already stuck in the jam anyway.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Tim is in Seoul. Rhiannon has to be at school on time / early as she has a swimming lesson first thing. And then I have to go to work!

I've got another day of IT training at the Embassy. Not entirely sure what it will entail as the department have been reticent about telling me any details but I do know it's on Microsoft Access which doesn't fill me with pleasure. Not my favourite course to teach. Their system is so tied down there is very little they can do with it. But I'm not nervous about this… my main worry today is how to drive from school to work.

And for me, this is a big concern. I get lost trying to find my sense of direction.

I'm OK driving to places I'm familiar with (school and back) but this is way out of my comfort zone. However, the GPS is set up and after dropping Rhiannon off at school, I grip the steering wheel very tightly and set off.

Roads here vary from six lane main roads to narrow lanes that are sometimes one way, but more often than not, two way. Which is interesting when you meet another vehicle coming in the other direction. Corners can be extremely tight and it's common to see people taking a couple of attempts to negotiate them, even taxis.

An additional peculiarity of Tokyo's roads is the way the lanes don't quite match up after you've made it across an intersection. You sort of have to drift a little to find your way back in between the white lines.

Furthermore, there are massive freeways that fly over and under the main roads. Most of the time the entrances are cunningly disguised as someone's driveway, but there are many places where the six lane road turns into seven and one of those lanes takes you onto the freeway. Incidentally, these are misnamed as they are not free - they are toll roads.

My biggest fear is accidentally getting onto one of these and then not being able to get off it until the next prefecture.

About three quarters of the way to the Embassy I reach one of the most enormous intersections you could possibly imagine. And even worse - I'm the first in the queue at the traffic lights! I don't like this one little bit; at least if there is someone in front of me I can follow them.

Ahead of me is the largest expanse of tarmac I've seen outside of an airport. Countless roads branch off it like a multi-pointed star. Sort of. My GPS is telling me something I don't understand as usual. But the map indicates that I need to take a road located at about 11 o'clock to where I am.

But there are three roads there, all at approximately the same 11 o'clock point. One of them goes up to a flyover. And another goes to a freeway... and at that point the traffic lights changed.

Yikes!

There are no lines on the road to indicate where to go. So I have little option than to just go! In fact I do believe I closed my eyes on the way across. I ended up going up the ramp to the flyover. Completely convinced I had inadvertently got onto the freeway, I panicked. But what can you do? You can't stop and go back. It's amazing how quickly your brain works sometimes. I was convinced I'd a) gone the wrong way up an exit ramp and b) got onto a freeway.

By some miracle this was the correct road! Goodness knows how. But my nerves were completely shredded.

After that, the work was a doddle and they paid me immediately which is always welcome.

By the way, the pictures in this post are not of this particular road, but give you an idea of some of the more gentle and user-friendly intersections.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Yes, I know - I've muddled up dates again. Never mind. I'm so far behind, consider this blog as a travelogue rather than a chronological diary!

One of Tim's workmates is over from the UK for an extended visit so we decide to take him (and us) for a boat trip. Starting from somewhere and ending in Asakusa.

We take the train. Trains. It's quite a trek from home to the starting 'port' and among many line changes, includes a journey on a driverless monorail which weaves through the skyscrapers of Tokyo. Then there's a long walk to find the boats. The place is incredibly busy, which was quite surprising. But in retrospect, if we'd known what was occurring at the other end of the trip, totally understandable.

To be honest, the boat trip wasn't particularly memorable. There's none of the historical interest of seeing, for example, London from the Thames, but the many bridges are interesting… if you get excited about bridges.

After half an hour or so we arrived in Asakusa.

And it was the busiest I have EVER seen it. There were people everywhere. Thousands and thousands of them.

Now it's normally a very busy tourist spot, but this day was something else altogether. We could barely move. Rhiannon was in danger of being trampled so Tim hoisted her onto his shoulders for safety.

Sunday, June 06, 2010

Once 'T' left for her trip to Australia we finally had some time to ourselves.

Rhiannon has been riding her bicycle up and down the cul-de-sac with stabilisers for some time now. It's very safe in this immediate area with little or no traffic, so - unlike in the UK - I'm happy for her to play outside on her own. She wants a new bike, which she does need as this one is getting too small for her now. But the prerequisite for this new bike is that she must learn to ride without stabilisers.

Good friends, and experts in this small but vital piece of education, recommended that the only and best way to do this is to remove the pedals as well as the stabilisers. Their son has been riding without stabilisers since he was about two, so they do know about it! Well, he never actually had a bike with stabilisers anyway, just two wheels and the handlebars.

Of course, Tim thought his method was better and just removed the training wheels. Over a period of 2 or 3 days, a panicky Rhiannon wobbled a lot, fell off and cried amid Tim railing against her. I had to put a quick stop to this before her nerve left her altogether and so I insisted the pedals should come off too.

Brave child got back on, with plasters on her scraped knees, wobbled a lot but this time she was able to put her feet down on the ground to prevent further crashes. It's all to do with balance, obviously.

Within half an hour she was ready for the pedals to go back on and we proudly cheered as she confidently rode her bike for the first time, without stabilisers!

I should add at this point that I cannot ride a bike. But Rhiannon has said I can have her old stabilisers if I want to get one! I do fancy a bike, just because I am acquisitive and I've seen some lovely ones around. I'm sure it can't be that hard to learn… even at my age.

Apparently there are over 86 million bicycles in Japan. I should think most of them are in Tokyo. It's most definitely the favoured form of transport.

There are so many different kinds from standard city bikes to peculiar 'lie-down and pedal' contraptions with a roof. We laugh to see a fully grown man in his business suit pedalling furiously on a kids' sized Raleigh Chopper style bike.

By far the most common sight is the mama-charis, literally "mother's bike". These very basic shopping bikes have a basket on the front and a child's seat on the back. Sometimes there will be a child's seat on the front as well! Actually, most bikes have a large metal basket on the front, even the toughest -looking mountain bike. Sometimes the basket contains a small dog, enjoying the ride with ears blown back in the wind. Occasionally the dog is a little bigger...

Mama-charis bomb along the pavements with the mother pedalling, sometimes with a baby strapped across her chest in a sling and a toddler sitting or sleeping on the back seat. There are special holders for umbrellas too. But when it's raining it's not uncommon for the cyclist to be holding the brolly over their head and cycling one-handed. It's terrifying. And nobody wears helmets either.

Other bikes that intrigue me are the electric powered ones. For ages I wondered how these women managed to cycle up hills with two kids and bags of shopping until someone pointed out to me that the pack near the pedals gave a little extra power to their efforts. There are also plenty of adult sized tricycles, some with two wheels on the rear, others with double wheels at the front.

But almost all cyclists ride on the pavements! And they don't cycle slowly, either.

With a small child in tow, it's frankly terrifying to see the speed they reach and they barely slow down to weave between the pedestrians. Although they don't' annoy me as much as mountain bikers in the UK, tearing up the countryside and feeling they are entitled to make up rules up as they go along, it's still tempting to carry a sturdy stick to shove in the wheel spokes.

Some politely ring their bell just before they are about to hit you. Which is nice. Unless you are deaf…

Apparently there ARE cycling rules, but they are rarely enforced. Unless you are a gaijin, when (allegedly) the police often take the opportunity to stop and fine you. Bikes have to be registered and display a little yellow sticker on the frame.

Official rules are (as far as I can tell):

Ride on the road - unless you prefer to ride on the pavement

If you ride on the pavement, do so slowly and with care

Pedestrians have right of way on the pavement.

Cyclists bear full responsibility for accidents with pedestrians

All traffic signs and traffic lights apply to cyclists as well a motor vehicles

Keep left

Don't ride on the wrong side of the road - riding the wrong way is prohibited

Drunk riding is illegal

Lights are mandatory for night riding

Park in designated areas. If you fail to do so your bike will be taken away by the Bike Police and you will incur a fine in order to retrieve it.

Carrying passengers over the age of six is prohibited.

Don't ride carrying an open umbrella or talking on your mobile phone

It's also very common to see "no bicycle parking areas" full of parked bikes.

So, if you want to be a true cycling Tokyoite, ignore all the above rules.

It seems the law turns a blind eye to all these rules until someone other than yourself gets hurt.

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

So, after finally finding her way to the correct exit, 'T' and I made our way to the taxi rank for the quick trip back home. Really didn't fancy taking the Metro as it's quite a walk from our nearest station.

I can't remember if I've already mentioned about the Tokyo taxis? They are numerous and very easy to use, albeit a little on the expensive side. There is just one thing to remember - do not open or close the doors. Doors for passengers are self-opening and the driver gets a little cross if you forget this. The boot opens too. But, somewhat surprisingly, the driver offered us absolutely no assistance in getting 'T's' heavy suitcase into the tiny space. Between us we struggled but managed.

We got as close to home as I could direct the driver. Few speak English. In fact (bearing in mind that I'm writing this 3 years on) I've only been able to have a conversation in English with one taxi driver. She was a widow in her mid to late forties who was forced to become a driver after her husband died young and she had to find some work to do in order to give her children an education.

I digress.

Once again, the driver offered no assistance to two women struggling to get the case out of the boot of the taxi. In every other country I've been in, the driver has willingly helped. Whether this was just a grumpy driver or the norm, I cannot tell.

However, the good outweighs the bad: taxis are very easy to flag down, but in typical Japanese fashion the "taxi free" sign is the reverse to what one would expect. Over here, if a taxi is available there will be a red sign lit up at the bottom of the front windscreen. Sometimes this is hard to see, especially in sunny weather. Just wave at any that pass and one of them will cross three lanes of traffic to reach you. You can pay with cash or credit card, which is peculiar because credit cards are fairly rare here - almost all transactions are done in cash.

Anyway, I'll mention more about credit cards in another post.

Also, you do not tip. This is one of The Best Things About Japan. No tipping! Anywhere!! If you do leave a tip, for example in a restaurant, the waiter or manager will chase you down the street to return your money. It's considered an insult to tip someone for doing the job they are paid to do. Quite right, in my opinion.

I've mentioned before how difficult it is to navigate around Tokyo, and taxi drivers have the same problems as everyone else. This is acknowledged by every business, who put maps on their websites and business cards. Even 'normal' people have maps to their homes to hand. So you carry a printed map and show it to the driver and off you go.

A website we have found invaluable here glories in the name of Diddlefinger. You can type in the required address in English and the map is displayed in Japanese. Perfect for the drivers who cannot read English.

Wednesday, March 03, 2010

It's my birthday today. I don't get a cake, but I do get to eat black eggs!

Tim's taken a couple of weeks off work so we can get out and about with Mum and explore some other parts of Japan. Lots of trips out of Tokyo are planned.

Today we went to Hakone, a popular day-trip destination less than 100 kilometres from Tokyo. Hakone is famous for its onsen, or hot springs, as well as being a site of natural beauty and real countryside.

Now, about onsen. I would love to visit one of these public hot springs but I am not allowed. Why? Well, I have tattoos which are well and truly banned. Incidentally, I am also not allowed to go to swimming pools and gyms, neither of which I am bothered about. Why are tattooed people forbidden from onsen? It stems from the banning of members of the yakuza - mafia-type gangs - who are covered in beautifully worked ink. Even though, by dint of being female and gaijin I cannot possibly be a member, my ink disallows me from baring myself to the Japanese world. Ah well.

We went by car and the journey took around two hours along toll roads that are easy to navigate with numerous well-equipped service stations. These service areas are great. Banks of vending machines dispensing every kind of drink and even hot food. Clean and vast toilets with a choice of cubicle - Japanese, Western, and even double cubicles with a normal sized convenience and a kid-sized one! Plenty of dogs to watch - there are even facilities for them with dog runs and water bowls. A huge shop contained something very rare and most welcome - a bakery. How I've missed decent baked goods! We stock up on plenty of rolls, doughnuts, Danish pastries and other items to eat en route.

Once at our destination we didn't really have plan but soon realised that the main attractions are lakes and mountains. Unfortunately the weather turned nasty and we were engulfed in a thick dank fog. So none of my photos are good, sorry.

Lake Ashi was our first stop where we took a boat trip around the vast lake. To our amazement we spotted three colourful 'pirate' ships; replicas of British ships complete with masts and figureheads looming out of the mists. We also saw what appeared to be a paddle steamer. What a shame we were on the only 'ordinary' boat on the lake. They were all tourist boats ferrying people back and forth to various destinations. Apparently you can see Mount Fuji from here, but the fog meant we could barely see the other side of the lake. On one side of the lake is the entrance to one of the most photographed shrines in Japan with its picturesque bright red torii gates placed in the water.

Returning to shore and our car we were lured by signs leading to something called "The Great Boiling Valley". With a name like that, we just had to visit! Following these signs led us up a mountain called Owakudani which is a volcanic hotspot full of bubbling sulphurous springs and fumaroles. A number of cable cars or ropeways were taking people some of the way but we drove and parked in the convenient car park near the top before walking the rest of the way.

This fascinating sign greeted us at the exit from the car park before walking up the mountain.

We decided to brave the dangers and headed up the path through the pungent air where we came to an area of boiling pools of milky blue-green water. Around one of the pools large metal boxes were immersed in the hot water. Leading up to this was a pulley system bringing boxes of eggs up from the town at the base of the mountain. These eggs were then plunged into the boiling water and sold in bags at a nearby kiosk. Although they are normal chicken eggs their shells are turned black by the chemicals in the water. These black eggs are extremely famous here and according to Japanese legend they increase your lifespan; for each black egg you eat another seven years is added to your life.

Another typically translated sign: I think it apologises in advance if there are no eggs available.

Solid wooden tables surround the kiosk, each one encircled by dozens of people bashing the eggs and peeling off the shells.

A sign nearby showed that we had climbed to 1050m above sea-level.

We ate lots of eggs and very delicious they were too. Good to know we'll live longer for eating them - with the number we've eaten we're probably going to be immortal.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Four whole days of work. And I promised I wouldn't go on about this any more, so I won't.

Organising the school run and child care was tricky, but with the help of some well planned playdates at other peoples' homes, and help from Tim, all went smoothly.

Tim drove us both to the school for the morning drop-off and then continued with me to the office. On the day's I finished early, I would catch the train to school, which is a through run from the office, collect Rhiannon and catch the bus from Shibuya home. On days when this wouldn't work, I was lucky enough to manipulate Rhiannon into a playdate where Tim would collect her later in the evening. Perfectly civilised!

But Tim is going away on business next week, so I have to grab the car by the bull horns and drive it sometime. This I do on a day when I only have a half day course scheduled.

My First Driving Experience

One thing in my favour is that in Japan the driving is done on the correct side of the road! They drive on the left, the same as in Britain. All the signs seem similar, so I gathered my courage and set off on an exploratory drive around before heading off to the school. Tim showed me how to use the GPS – press this button, select that one and then press this one – all written in Kanji, so I just have to remember the positions. Far left, 2nd from bottom right, centre, then far left again.

Nervously, I crawled out of the gates at work, turned left onto a really busy road as instructed by Tim, then left again as instructed on the map... and promptly got lost in the maze of tiny streets! Thankfully, the lady in the GPS got me back on track; track being a huge eight-laned road.

From the sublime to the ridiculous.

The roads here seem to be either very wide and multi-laned or extremely narrow. The narrow, single car-width roads are quaint and fascinating but dreadful to drive along due to the curious positioning of telegraph poles which for reasons unknown are placed at least two feet out from the house walls. These narrow roads are often two-way roads as well, which is quite frankly scary. Combined with people aimlessly ambling along the centre of the road, oblivious to the vehicle behind them driven by a terrified and lost gaijin because they are plugged into their personal stereo, this all makes for, shall we say, an "interesting experience".

It also appears that pedestrians have right of way. What an unusual rule! Correctly so, in my opinion, but a bit of a shock to start with. All pedestrian crossings seem to be located on large junctions, so when turning left, you are suddenly confronted by a sea of people making their casual way across while you wait. Now something makes sense. Nobody crosses the road here unless the 'green man' light is on. Even if there is no car within 2 miles, you wait until the green man says go... Also, nobody 'jaywalks'.

This is all very different from traversing the roads in Britain where you learn to judge a vehicles speed, distance and your chance of survival very quickly as a pedestrian.

Also, to my utter joy, I discovered there do not appear to be roundabouts here in Tokyo! I loathe roundabouts and harbour evil thoughts to the people who invented them, most especially the ones with several lanes and more exits than Shibuya station. Woe betide you if you find yourself in the wrong lane for your exit on one of these monsters; you could be circling for hours without escape. And I don't believe they help the flow of traffic at all.

Instead of roundabouts, Tokyo is littered with traffic lights instead. Every hundred metres or so... and that is not an exaggeration.

I don't mind traffic lights: you know where you are with them. Red means stop, green means go. Easy. However, orange seems to have a slightly different meaning to the one we're used to in the UK. Here, amber seems to imply "if you think you can get through before the light turns red, then go for it – and even if you don't, go for it anyway!".

Anyway, I survived my first drive! I managed to find my way home with just a slight detour then back to school again.

Next I had to negotiate the car park. Once again, most car parks have a different system to the UK and it is one that WORKS. It used to be like this in Britain, but things changed. Here, you pull a ticket from the machine on the way in to lift up the barrier then pay on your way out based on how long you were parked there. No "Pay and Display"!

This ridiculous system used in Britain means you have to guess how long your shopping trip will take before paying for the ticket. As any shopaholic / mum / living human knows, you just cannot gauge how long an expedition will take as too many random factors come into play. What if you get distracted by the special offers? How about those times when your toddler needs to use the toilet just as the time for your ticket runs out? And let's not even mention the queues at the supermarket...

Unfortunately, the car park is closely packed and full of people carriers. Negotiating your way into a parking space is quite tricky and reversing in seems to be the norm. Something I'm not ready to attempt just yet! A cute addition is the inclusion of small 'stop' bumps – short barriers to stop your wheels just before you hit the car parked in the adjacent parking place.

Now I understand why every car in Tokyo sports a few small bumps or scratches somewhere on its bodywork. I wonder how long ours will remain bump-free?

Sunday, March 08, 2009

We finally have the car. Hurray! Just in time for the half term holidays coming up.

But I'm too terrified to drive in Tokyo just now, so Tim uses it to get to work while Rhiannon and I take the bus as it is so easy.

Why am I terrified? Well, I learnt to drive in Devon, many, many years ago. Lovely, gentle Devon where there is little traffic to negotiate, tiny single-track lanes lined with soft grassy hedges and easy, simple roads with no roundabouts. I am a dab-hand at reversing quickly and adeptly to a passing place; I can wait patiently while a herd of cows or flock of sheep bustle past me; emergency braking when confronted with a combine harvester on a blind corner is no problem and passing tractors on a bend road was a risk I was willing to take.

And then I moved to London. This was in 1988, just as the "hot-hatch" problem arose (I had an XR2 at the time). From costing around £300 to insure in Devon, the cost suddenly shot up to astronomical regions. And that was with the only two insurance companies willing to quote for someone under the age of 25. Insuring it would have cost more than the car was worth, so I reluctantly sold it (for more than I paid for it, hee hee!) and went onto permanent public transport for the next 12 years.

I lived next to two train stations so it wasn't a problem. Well, that's a misnomer as we're talking about London public transport, but I'm sure you know what I mean.

Then I met Tim, and moved to Northampton where I was forced back into driving again as I had to get from home to the train station, 7 miles away, usually at 6am, for my commute to London. My nerve deserted me and I found I was really scared of driving! How ridiculous. In my defence, the area was littered with far too many roundabouts than are necessary or healthy, and filter lanes which I had never used before. Plus I have no sense of direction and can get lost just crossing a road.

Tim bought me a GPS / SatNav system which helped me no end. But it took a long time for me to feel comfortable driving again.

So Tokyo's notorious traffic, multi-laned roads and complicated road signs are somewhat daunting to me at the moment.

Second-hand cars here are very cheap compared to the UK and we never buy new anyway. And we also don't follow the crowd of other expats who buy the biggest people carriers they can find then wonder why they can't negotiate the tiny streets without dinging the bodywork. However, they do have some fancy gadgets in them including a rear-view camera with alarms that go off when they reverse too close to something.

So, we will soon have a little pale-gold coloured Toyota. The British name for it is the Corolla Verso while here it's known as a Spacio.

Happy, happy, happy!

There is the small matter of a large pile of paperwork first, so that has been completely delegated to Tim to deal with. All the driving licence stuff has been completed as you will have seen from a previous post.

To own a car in Japan you also have to prove you have a parking space! What a brilliant idea – something for the UK to think about, in my opinion.

Transfer of ownership forms have to be completed for used cars, mandatory and optional insurance bought, and the number plate to be re-registered in our name. The optional insurance is actually compulsory if you want full coverage. Nice little ploy.

Luckily, being diplomats, we are exempt from car tax and the compulsory shaken, Japan's version of the MOT. Pronounced 'shah-ken' (which is a shame, as the spelling pronounced in English is more apt) this is a very expensive and compulsory inspection; which is why most people don't buy second-hand cars, preferring instead to get a new vehicle every couple of years. I believe a shaken costs around £1200-£1500!

Further driving costs are toll roads, which can add quite a considerable outlay to your journey, but petrol is really cheap. At the time (early 2007) the cost of a litre of fuel was about .50p. Plus we get this duty free due to our diplomatic status. We are indeed privileged.

Sorry to all readers in the UK who have to pay exorbitant rates for your petrol.

Hopefully none of this will take too long and we can get out and explore Japan

Saturday, February 07, 2009

We can leave for school almost an hour later, meaning a lot less shouting (from Mum) and a lot less resistance (from Rhiannon). It's a new experience for Rhiannon who hasn't had the pleasure of riding a bus before, and we can see more of the surrounding areas.

The bus route seems to finish just around the corner of Shibuya station and then there is a little walk to school, but nothing compared to taking the Metro.

The scenery en-route is fascinating. Just up the road from us is a small area of greenery – trees, shrubs and some large rocks. Very pretty. Interspersed amongst the trees are a number of blue tarpaulins fashioned into tents and lean-tos. It's a small and seemingly permanent area for homeless people. What a very appealing place to set up 'home'.

Then we travel through Harajuku, the centre of fashionable Tokyo along with an incredibly busy station. And home to an enormous multi-storey shop called 'Snoopy Town'. What do you think it sells? Yup: everything to do with Snoopy and his friends! After this the bus negotiates the unbelievably hectic crossings around Shibuya, including the famous Hachiko crossing. This takes some time but it's still way better than taking the train as I get to people-watch to my heart's content.

On one bus journey, we spot a mum with her daughter who is wearing the BST school uniform, so we pop over to say "Hello". The mum is Japanese and married to a Greek man, while the girl is in the year above Rhiannon. We have a lovely chat and then the mum asks me why I get off the bus so early? It appears that, if I had a little more knowledge and more patience, the bus doesn't terminate at the stop where we normally disembark. After waiting there for 5 or 10 minutes, it then moves up the road to stop literally just across the road from school. Bliss!

Returning home is even simpler. After dropping Rhiannon off at school, I can nip back across the road and within a few minutes catch the bus home. I still have to watch very carefully where to get off and press the little button to ring the stopping bell, otherwise I end up some distance away and have to retrace my steps by about half a kilometre.

The reverse school run works just as well, with enough time for Rhiannon to get a little play in the small playground near school before catching the bus home, arriving more than an hour earlier than before. Happy child = happy mum.

I've bought myself an MP3 player – something I've never been too keen on as I prefer not to have things stuck in my ears. But have since discovered the joy of tuning out. However, after finding myself singing aloud to some Leftfield track (oops!), I decided to download some Japanese lessons instead. Might as well use my extra time for good intentions. I've learned how to say "hello" for the different times of day, finally mastered "thank you"... and that's about it so far.

This is something new. It appears that I've offered to help some student doctors learn English! It's amazing what one will agree to after a few drinks!!

One of the other wives I've met through Tim's work is a GP and has contacts around Tokyo. She's persuaded a few of us who are at a loose end to help out in a brand new training session in some teaching hospital on the other side of Tokyo.

Today is the "train the trainers" induction. And even better, we'll get paid for it!

So, after a blissful school run on the bus we met up at a Metro station and headed off on quite a long journey to this hospital. Once at our destination Metro station, we proceeded, as is normal, to get completely lost. It seems most people get lost in Tokyo on a daily basis so everyone is incredibly helpful. However, if the person we've asked directions of doesn't know the way, they won't actually say they don't know – saving face? Or just wanting to help? I don't know; instead they confidently give directions to somewhere else, anywhere! I guess they hope we will find someone more clued up. An interesting yet frustrating characteristic.

Eventually after much walking and luck, we find the hospital; a huge, imposing and unprepossessing building with many pale and exhausted-looking young people in white coats bustling around. Just like hospitals in the UK, really. I think I was expecting something extremely modern, state-of-the-art and high-tech. This it most certainly wasn't.

There was a vending machine, of course, so I grabbed a tin of coffee and swigged it down. I quite like the vending machine coffee as it's hot and sweet. The taste isn't really coffee, but it will do the job.

We found out where to go and squeezed into a very small and rickety lift along with a few other gaijin who were all there for the same session. One of them carried rather a lot of extra weight... and the lift started complaining! The maximum weight it could carry was exceeded and it was not going to move until this was sorted. Unembarrassed, the large gentleman got out and the lift worked again.

Next, a trail of bemused gaijin wandered down a low-ceilinged corridor and found a huge room set up with a number of desks and a speaker's podium at the front.

There were about 70 gaijin of all ages, nationalities, skills and reasons for being there. Most were after the promised money, some were there for the experience and others were there as favours to friends. A couple of back-packing types barely had any English themselves, this didn't bode well for the poor students. Feeling a little nervous we got a bit giggly and silly, but soon behaved ourselves when the "teachers" came in.

Names were taken, paperwork handed out, instruction leaflets and scripts to read from. How to work with the students, some of whom had barely any English at all, apparently, and pep-talks from a number of high ranking doctors.

Then the bombshell – we WEREN'T going to get paid for this! Oh, the uproar that caused! Misinformation, change of mind, who knows; but there was a lot of unrest and complaining so a gopher was dispatched to find out what had happened.

Meanwhile, we broke for coffee.

On our return, the powers-that-be had come up with a compromise – we wouldn't get cash, but we would get a railcard to the same value – about £25 per day's attendance for the actual training to commence next week.

Not particularly happy about this, but as I do use the Metro it will be useful.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Rhiannon and I are at the end of our tether with this awful school run. Going in isn't too bad. Well, it is, but at least Rhiannon is fresh at the start of the day and there aren't too many people around at that time. But the 'going-home-run' is atrocious.

One traumatic afternoon (for both of us), Rhiannon tantrummed for nearly the entire journey – a whole hour straight. She's never done this before, ever. Along with the whole change of country, culture shock, the new school, (which is more pressured than the exceedingly gentle schooling she'd experienced in the UK) it's hardly surprising the poor child is so shattered.

We have an incredibly frazzled mum and daughter at the end of each day. There's no 'happy family' for Tim to return home to at the end of his work day. He can't work out what the problem is – I am very tempted to suggest he does the school run a couple of days and see how he copes! Not well, would be my guess.

But! An end to the nightmarish school run could finally be in sight.

My gorgeous friend, Tere, has told me in great detail about the buses. I hadn't even thought of using a bus, doh! She has even gone to the trouble of obtaining a bus route map and worked out how I can get to school on the bus, which bus to catch, and even how to how to pay when getting on board.

Not only that, she told me there was a bus stop just across the road from my house! I cannot believe I hadn't noticed it and went to investigate. Sure enough, there it is! But I can't read the timetable as it's all in Japanese. I make a guess and plan a trial run. Unfortunately, there are only 2 or 3 buses every hour but it looks like the one we need is just right for getting to school on time. And the timetable appears to be fairly straightforward as long as I remember which column means weekdays and which refers to the weekend.

This could be the miracle cure to the endless waste of time that I'm spending on the school run. It's taking a minimum of four hours out of my day.

So, at the weekend, we go on adventure and take the bus to Shibuya. What a revolution!! The number 81 bus picks us up. It only costs 200 yen for any length of journey, and Rhiannon travels free of charge due to her age - she doesn't start paying until she's 6 years old. The seats have no leg room for tall gaijin, but that's not a problem for Rhiannon, of course! Then at Shibuya, we hop off and work out where to go from there. It's as easy as pie and will only be a few hundred yards walk to school, instead of a couple of miles.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Tim has an idea for a day trip today so we jump at the chance to see somewhere new.

We are off to a place called Odaiba, which is somewhere “over a river and by the sea”. Excellent! A Real Trip!

This involves countless trains, culminating in a trip on a wonderfully modern, unmanned monorail which speeds us over the roofs of Tokyo on an elevated track. We managed to get the front seats so Rhiannon pretends, as all kids do, to drive the train. We get many amused looks from the other passengers. Although this might have to do with the fact that Tim was also pretending to drive the train...

Flying over Tokyo Bay to our destination I enjoy the fabulous views of some incredible futuristic architecture.

Odaiba is a large artificial island located in Tokyo Bay. Some of the spectacular sights here include the graceful Rainbow Bridge, one of the world’s largest Ferris wheels and the amazing space-age Fuji TV building. The latter takes my breath away with its other-worldly design. Apparently the ball at the top weighs an incredible 1,200 tons and measures 32 metres across. Goodness knows how they got it all the way up there!

Once there, we explore the area finding a massive shopping mall with a large restaurant hall which we earmark for lunch.

Outside, I snap away taking photos of all the wonderful buildings and views over the Bay. Then we realise we can actually get down to the sea so we make our way through the clipped trees and giant anchors placed artfully in the ground. On the way, we are amazed to see a Statue of Liberty!

Even though it is January and pretty cold, Rhiannon goes paddling in the sea chasing the small fish darting in the shallows. I didn’t expect this of Tokyo, that’s for sure! Not only can we (fairly) easily get to the sea, it’s not polluted or mucky in anyway, and there is even life in it! Ducks and cormorants bob around, doing their thing, while spaceship-like ferries carry passengers to unknown destinations.

For lunch we drag Rhiannon away from the giant beefburger and down to the restaurant hall we noticed earlier. While I ordered a steaming bowl of Japanese noodles and soup, Tim and Rhiannon let the side down and order McDonalds.

We will return to this place, it looks like there is a lot to discover here.

Monday, December 15, 2008

On the way to school I noticed one of the large film screens around Shibuya station showing videos of one of my favourite bands – the Red Hot Chili Peppers. As I gazed at the screen a date flashed up and I realised with elation that they were coming to perform in Tokyo! I've been trying to see this band for nigh on 20 years but have always been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Could it be possible that I finally get to see them? Oh, I LOVE my new home!

Now all I needed to do was find out how to speak Japanese and get some tickets. I decided to pass the task onto Tim who could ask his colleagues for help. I care not that he isn't a massive fan like me; we will go and see them if at all possible, and that is that.

I collect Rhiannon and we head home.

The school run is already dragging us down and Rhiannon is so tired at the end of the day that the walk to the station in Shibuya is a real chore. She insists on walking on all the building edges, up steps, down steps, around bollards and generally being a pain as all the time she insists on holding my hand which drags me around too. Then she complains about being tired and having achey legs. I'm not surprised; with all the to-ing and fro-ing she is walking ten times as far as she needs to.

She is also obsessed with all the vending machines and we have to stop at each one, of which there are many, to inspect the contents and hassle me for a drink. I counter this with a promise of something from the one nearest home as it is considered rude to drink and eat on the Metro. And so it continues as a whinging child and I enter the overcrowded Metro.

We are both completely frazzled by the time we get home, two hours after I left. There must be an easier way of doing the school run, but sadly I don't know what. Some people catch cabs, but this is an expensive option and besides, I tried this once and couldn't convey to the taxi driver where I wanted to go. But it is very tempting. Perhaps I should try and find a map.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Finally! I thought this day would never come, but here we are, getting ready for Rhiannon's first day at her new school.

Considering that she left her school in the UK nearly two months ago, and really enjoyed staying at home with Mum, she's surprisingly upbeat about going. Considering that Mum has had nearly two months of daughter NOT being at school, she's incredibly upbeat about the first day of term.

The uniform arrived in good time, having been ordered from the official school outlet in America (!) and we had to purchase a small backpack, lunchbox, snack-box and water bottle the previous weekend.

However, our five-year-old fashion-diva was most unimpressed with the uniform and declared it to be "baby's clothes". She has a point.

In the UK, primary schools mostly have "grown-up" uniforms for the girls of smart dresses. Here the first two years, Reception and Year 1, wear t-shirts and tracksuit bottoms, with a logo-embroidered sweatshirt which is almost impossible for a child to take off themselves. I suppose this is in line with other countries where "school" doesn't really start until the children are in their 7th year, and everything up to then is considered kindergarten.

I don't know. I just have to force my reluctant child into the unflattering and dull navy blue outfit in time for the daunting school run.

And then we're off. Hoofing up the road to the Metro for what we already know is an appalling and long trip to the school. I just hope I can remember the way!

Luckily, I do, but once at the school I don't remember the route to Rhiannon's new classroom and it takes a couple of wrong turnings before we finally find the correct room. And that is a long walk too.

We say our goodbyes, but then Rhiannon "had a moment " and became nervous, clingy and upset before being led away "to help get some pens out" by the wonderful, compassionate and capable teaching assistant, Miss Irene.

With great relief, yet feeling a little raw emotionally, I pushed my way through the crowds of mums greeting each other after the holidays, and finally found myself outside the school with nearly 6 hours all to myself.

What to do? For the first time in weeks I only have to please myself: I don't have to take anyone else's wants, needs or feelings into account and can do precisely what I want for a few hours.

Rather than trek home, I decide to explore the area today and see if I can finally get a grip on the location of the school in relation to the rest of the area. I've spent too long being lost around here and I need to remedy that. So I started with breakfast at Starbucks in Tower Records which was the only place open at 9am.

To my surprise, I soon discovered that nothing in Tokyo (apart from Starbucks) opens before 11am. OK, a few shops open at 10am, but mostly it is 11 or even midday! Well, that's going to solve one shopaholic's problem. I won't be able to go shopping just after dropping Rhiannon off at school and, as the shops compensate by staying open late in the evenings, I won't be able to shop then either as I will be Mum again. My wallet will thank me.

Somehow, I found my way to Tokyo Hands again and was gratified to find that at least this shop was open from 10am, so spent a good proportion of the day in there.

The hours went very quickly and I was soon back at the school ready for pick-up time and the long walk and ride home. Rhiannon had had a great day and, although tired, was happy to go back again, thank goodness!

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Mum’s flying back to the UK today and we are due to go to the Driving Test Centre to get our Japanese driving licenses sorted out.

Two cars are coming to collect us, one to take Mum to Narita Airport and one to take me, Tim and Rhiannon to the test centre. Both cars are due at the same time, 8 o’clock in the morning. With our lack of language skills, the potential for a comedic outcome is very high. Can you imagine the confusion? What if Mum gets in the wrong car and ends up at the license centre?!

Luckily, it all worked out just fine with the car taking Mum to the airport arriving first. Of course, it was sad waving goodbye to her but she’ll be back again in just a few months for Easter. She’s a great traveller, my Mum, and spends her year travelling to remote areas on botanical trips, hunting rare flowers and then committing them to paper: she’s a recognised and successful botanical artist. Not bad for a lady in her seventies!

So, on to our adventure at the Japanese driving centre...

This was something Tim sprung on me at the last minute so I had no idea what to expect. Mind you, neither did he, so we were both entering the arena blind. The plan was that our driver, loaned by Tim’s work, was to accompany us in to help with translations and other necessary guidance.

With plenty of books and colouring-in paraphernalia to keep Rhiannon occupied, we nervously set off. Personally, I was more nervous of how Rhiannon was going to react to a lot of waiting, which was the only thing we’d been warned about. However, she was remarkably good, which made a change!

We arrived at the centre at about 8.30am and discovered there was absolutely nowhere for our driver to park. So we ended up sending him back and entered the unknown realm alone and apprehensive. Not only that, but we would have to find our way back again on public transport which was a daunting prospect – but that was after the first trial – getting through the licensing procedures unaccompanied.

The building reminded me of a school; cavernous, painted an institutional beige with rooms, corridors and doors everywhere. Various young people wandered around like lost souls so we joined them in our search for the correct place to start.

With great relief we found the route to the “Foreigners” area was signposted in English. Our first port of call was a small window half hidden in a corner where we handed over various items of paperwork to a stern woman to deal with. And then sat and waited. And waited some more. This was the main theme of the morning.

Suddenly another couple of gaijin arrived from a different direction. They’d already been through this process so I pounced and grilled the poor people on what happens next. I do like to be prepared, and thankfully they were extremely helpful and explained what precisely would happen amidst the waiting.

They told us that we would have to take a sight test and explained what this involved, which was very useful.

Being British, we wouldn’t have to take the practical driving test, thank goodness! This is reserved for those foreigners who drive on the right: Japan drives on the left (hooray!), so makes it so much easier for us Brits to convert our license.

Our names were called and we were directed to another department on a different floor in order to pay our fees, then return to the same window again. After some more waiting, we were sent for our sight test.

A large room in yet another part of the building was the setting for this. Our spirits sank at the sight of a long queue of people snaked along the corridor, but the process was remarkably quick.

We reached an inspector with a grim and bored expression on his face. He was sat in front of a large grey machine. I went first and sign language was the order of the day. Translation:

Inspector: “Do you wear glasses or contact lenses?”

Me: “Yes”

Inspector: “Read this” and thrust a laminated A4 sheet at me which showed how to do the eye test. I was given very little time to read it before he snatched it away again, but luckily I can speed read so understood what was expected of me.

There were several circles with segments missing and I had to show which side of the circle the gap was. (See the picture for a visual explanation). There was also to be a colour test; primary colours to be identified. Easy!

The sight test commenced with me looking through binoculars attached to the grey machine. A screen lit up with a circle on the top right. I had to wave my arms to show which position the missing segment was on. The circles bounced around the screen getting progressively smaller and smaller. Fun! The colour test was a breeze as the inspector had obviously learnt the English for red, blue and yellow. Again, coloured lights were flashed up on the screen and I just had to state the colour.

I passed!

Then it was Tim’s turn... Hah! He didn’t read the document fast enough and went a bit Basil Fawlty, raising his voice a little too much. Besides, I think it was time for the inspector’s break as he was getting a little fed up by now so there seemed to be some misunderstandings along the way.

Tim: “YES, I. WEAR. CONTACT. LENS” pointing to one of his eyes (he wears lenses in both eyes, by the way).

Inspector: rolling his eyes now, handed Tim an eyepiece to cover the one eye he’d pointed to... obviously thinking Tim wore just one contact lens! So Tim had to do the sight test with one eye.

The colour test was even funnier. For some reason best known to himself Tim thought the colours were traffic light colours, so instead of saying “blue” he kept saying “green”! By this time the inspector was visibly annoyed and possibly about to fail him, so between my giggles I whispered to Tim, “It’s blue, you twit!”...

Eventually, he passed too.

Time for a break... so we went for a can of vending machine coffee and a cigarette to recover before the next bout.

Now we had to get a photograph taken as the ones we’d brought with us were unsuitable for some reason. So off we went to yet another room for our pictures to be taken, and then to another place so we could stamp them out to the right size. And back to “our window” once more for some more waiting.

Oh, at some point we also had to watch a video about safe driving, but as we couldn’t understand a word of it, we took the opportunity to have some more coffee and a snack.

Finally, at 12.30pm we were finished and left the building clutching our brand new Japanese driving licenses. What an interesting morning!

Finding our way home was a little tricky as we had only vague directions in Japanese to get to the train station, but obviously we made it.

I wonder if and when we will get a car? It will make life so much easier.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Next stop was the Hase Kannon Temple, covering a large area with little gardens and many different shrines to various kami, or gods. We climbed up the steep steps to the top of the hill where the main buildings were located.

On the way up, we spotted thousands of tiny statues dressed in little cloaks or clothes and surround by childrens' toys. These are symbols of of the deity Jizo, the guardian of children and commemorate stillborn children. A very moving sight indeed.

Once at the top, we found a terrace with a fantastic view over Kamakura and a welcome cafe selling coffee and snacks. We also were amazed to see lots of black birds of prey swooping overhead. Of course, none of us had binoculars and, although the birds were close, we couldn't identify them.

The temple buildings are magnificent, with ornately decorated rooves and many ornamental carvings.

Back down the hill again and an exploration of the lower levels. Rhiannon has a 'thing' about Koi, and sits next to the water singing to them! This has to be done without anyone watching, so we maintain a discreet distance while she entertains the fish, who seem to rather enjoy the attention. Or perhaps they were hoping for food as they all came up to her and gathered in a mass of orange and white at her feet.

We also found a cave-temple, indicated by the special red torii gate. According to the English guide leaflet, this. along with a wooden building outside, was a temple to the goddess of feminine beauty and wealth, Benten. Of course, I felt the need to go and pay my respects so in we all went.

The cave was hewn surprisingly deep into the cliff and the one-way route through was dotted with small candlelit alcoves enclosing various sculptures. After a while, the ceiling got lower and lower and I suddenly realised Mum was not looking too good. Almost too late, I remembered she was claustrophobic when in caves (about the only thing that she is scared of!) and swiftly ushered her out into the air again. I felt very guilty for encouraging her in there, but she recovered quickly. I hope we were in there long enough for the 'feminine beauty and wealth' influence to work.

We were pretty much done with temples and shrines by now, so decided to wander back through the town and see what goodies the shops held: a great cure for the little panic we'd just had.

Kamakura is famous for a special brand of lacquerware, which is painted a dull red. It isn't to my taste really; I prefer the shiny black lacquer.

However, we did find a little souvenir shop that was crammed full of all kinds of items, large and small. Mum fell in love with a large, kimono-attired doll carrying a branch of wisteria over her shoulder. The wisteria was a gentle buff colour, and the kimono a dazzling red and gold. Expressing her interest to the shop-keeper prompted a loud shout out to someone in the back of the shop. The shop-keeper's husband appeared and an animated conversation between them ensued, then the husband scuttled off out the door.

We were extremely puzzled, not having any idea what was going on and with mum only wanting the doll off the shelf. However, all soon became clear as the husband returned after 10 minutes with a new doll in a box. This doll was similar, but the wisteria was a virulent purple, rather than the faded beige on the shelf-dweller. It clashed terribly with the kimono and Mum insisted on the original. The owners couldn't believe it, and kept insisting that she take the new one. At least, that's what we think was being said. Naturally, the customer is always right and Mum was amazed that they insisted on reducing the price by about a third. A great deal, and a lovely souvenir that now graces prime position in Mum's home.

Tired, yet happy with our real day out, we headed home to digest all the sights we'd seen. My favourite of which was seen on the way back to the station... a small, extremely noisy motorbike that appeared to be homemade. It was very square, looked most uncomfortable and was painted bright orange.

It was also emblazoned with the name "The Nutcracker"! It looked to be an accurate name.

Boxing Day dawned bright, crisp and sunny, encouraging us to decide to make a 'proper' day trip somewhere.

We decide to venture to Kamakura, a small town about 50km south of Tokyo with a long history and many ancient temples. Situated on the coast of the Pacific Ocean, Kamakura was once the capital of Japan during the eponymous Kamakura era, from 1185 to 1333.

We set off to the Metro, our route all planned from our guidebooks. Catch the Metro to Shibuya, find the correct platform for an overground train to another station, change lines somewhere a long way outside of Tokyo, then a final train to Kamakura. Quite daunting really, especially with the lack of English language signs at the stations.

But amazingly, we made it without a hitch! We felt very proud of ourselves as we stepped out of the station at Kamakura, ready for a day exploring old streets and numerous Buddhist temples.

Pacific Ocean! What does that conjure up for you? For me, it brings to mind images of warm, blue seas and exotic palms lining soft, white sandy beaches.

Now picture the complete opposite. Firstly, the weather in Kamakura was cold. Very cold. And windy. Secondly, we couldn't see the sea anywhere. Or anything much else either. There was a long, wide road outside the station bordered by pretty much nothing! We looked around for a tourist office, map or anything that would tell us which way to go, but found nothing. Using the old adage that downhill was the way to go to find the sea, we set off in that direction, huddling into our coats and wishing we'd worn hats, scarves and gloves.

After walking for about half an hour, we all started to get rather fed up: we still hadn't seen anything worth travelling all that way for; no signs to give us any indication of where these famous sites were, no shops or restaurants where we could stop to trya and ask directions, and still no sign of the sea! We'd also gone a little too far to turn back and try the other exit from the station - which, in retrospect, is where the initial problem started - we'd exited on the wrong side.

So we continued plodding down the road, cold and grumpy, when suddenly we scented the sea and felt sand being blasted into our faces with the strong gusts of wind. Finally, the sea was seen. Not the blue, calm waters I envisioned, but angry, grey, squally and with many 'white horses' showing their manes in the surf.

Now what? There were still no signposts to be seen anywhere and we hadn't come all this way just to be exfoliated by the extremely bracing sea air. Just in time to prevent a mutiny, we spotted a restaurant and made our way inside. I use the term 'restaurant' loosely here as it was more of a 'diner' with formica tables and uncomfortable chairs. But it was inside, warm and promised some kind of food and respite from the elements.

A waitress brought over the menus and thankfully for us, we discovered something common in eateries here that is very useful to us non-Japanese readers / speakers; all the dishes are pictured. So, although we have no idea what they contain, we can get an idea of the item from the photo and just point to our choices. We ordered hot drinks and food and recovered from the cold while debating what to do next.

Fortunately, the cafe had windows all around so we could get a rough idea of the lay of the land and made the decision to head "that way". Thankfully, it proved the correct direction and we shortly ended up in the actual town of Kamakura, rather than its unprepossessing suburbs.

Monday, November 10, 2008

This is the drawback of not keeping a diary! I've forgotten to include details of our luggage arriving a couple of days before Mum reached Tokyo... so...

Finally! Our main shipment of luggage has been released from customs and a large red lorry arrived one fine morning. Something to keep us occupied at last.

With extreme efficiency and skill, the driver somehow reversed the lorry up our tiny road and a gang of men managed to unload what seemed to be hundreds of boxes in record time.

Even though they offered to unpack everything, I preferred to do this myself. So they just put the boxes in the relevant rooms and left me to get on with it. I set Rhiannon to task to unpack her million soft toys while I hurried through the remaining boxes to find the Christmas gifts while I had the chance to hide them.

Much joy was experienced when I discovered our box of necessities like tea and biscuits. As I mentioned previously, it's amazing how something so mundane becomes exciting.

I didn't disctract myself for too long in this box, but it was a little like Christmas already. However, most of the time I thought to myself "why on earth did we think it was important to bring this?"

This is something that commonly occurs when you've lived without the 'normal' home-comforts for a while. You become used to living a minimalist life, so when suddenly all sorts of extra items arrive, however familar and missed they are, you feel overwhelmed with possessions.

Priorities change, but it's all here now and we can't send it back.

Rhiannon is completely over the moon with her re-discovery of much missed toys, so I guess that makes it all worthwhile.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Once again, we braved the trip to school. This involves a 15 minute walk to our nearest Metro station, two stops in the wrong direction, then change lines to head in the right direction.

The change of lines involves walking nearly a kilometre.

Neither Rhiannon, nor I, enjoy this one little bit. We are both inherently lazy.

Once at Shibuya, I consult Tim's wonderful map and we makeour way to the correct exit. Another 15 minutes walk and we are finally at the school. All this with a complaining 5 year old.

And then all the way back again in the afternoon. There must be an easier way?!

Anyway, we are directed to the concert hall where we are regaled with the most fabulous school concert I have ever seen! It's a real theatre, with a stage and proper seating. Although it was so packed that we ended up moving seats several times before ending up sitting on the steps in the aisle. Not good for my poor back.

First up are the young Taiko drummers, a crescendo of sound that sends the hairs on the back of my neck into overdrive. Next are the Reception classes, all dressed up in shiny, colourful costumes and fully confident of their part in the little skit they are performing.

As I’m sat there, with tears in my eyes (and they aren’t even MY children!) proudly imagining my daughter up on stage next year, Rhiannon looks completely horrified and loudly states “I am NEVER going up there!”

The rest of the concert was equally impressive and I was left with a feeling of relief that my daughter would be attending such a progressive and interesting school.

We've had to borrow someone's laptop as all our urgent stuff still hasn't arrived. Hopefully it shouldn't be much longer before I get my proper PC up and running and I can get back in touch with my online world of work. And of course, all the Winter clothes and Christmas presents, so carefully bought and concealed, are still not here.

We've now been in Tokyo for 17days and it already feels just like home in some ways. We've been out and about every day, just wandering around to get our bearings, so now we feel that we've got some kind of idea where we are in relation to everwhere. Travel is easy by Metro, but finding a particular address or store is nigh on impossible. Luckily people are very kind and helpful, and will approach a lost looking gaijin to assist. One young man even walked with us to the shop we were looking for, It is very easy to get lost, with streets wandering off in all directions.

Raymi is moping around constantly looking for his brother. It tugs on the heartstrings to see him looking so forlorn. And quite strange as they never really seemed to be that close. Raymi doesn't miaow, he just squeaks occassionally, but he's developed an endearing "chirrup" whenever he sees me, as if to say "Hello, you're still here. That's good. But where's Inti?"

It has suddenly struck me that it’s nearly Christmas! Help!!

Mum will be arriving from the UK soon and there are still boxes piled up all around. I have no presents. I have no idea what we will have for Christmas dinner. In fact, I have very little idea on anything very much.

What a bit of luck that Rhiannon has a couple of inset mornings at school planned. We’ve tried the public transport school run several times but it takes so long, the prospect seems pretty daunting. However, we bravely set out and, thanks to Tim’s comprehensive map of Shibuya station, we make it to school pretty much on time. She’s only there for the morning as her class is practising for the Xmas concert.

It hardly seems worth me trekking all the way back home again, so I take myself off for a little exploring session.

I found the most useful store for souvenirs – Oriental Bazaar – and stocked up an a ridiculous number of items for presents, just in case our luggage doesn't arrive in time.

When I picked Rhiannon up at lunchtime, she happily presented me with a box of freshly made peppermint creams packaged in a little box she’d made and decorated herself. All this in one morning at her new school. That’s more than she achieved in an entire term at the school in England!

Tomorrow, we are invited to the school’s Christmas Concert to be held in a “real” theatre”!

Back home, I make progress on the unpacking and life is shaping up nicely. Only another twenty boxes to go!!

Sunday, July 13, 2008

To keep ourselves occupied, Rhiannon and I visit the school she’ll be attending from January. This involves a walk to the Metro, two trains and then the impossible task of trying to find the right exit at Shibuya Station, probably the most complicated station on the planet.

There are several floors, not escalators or lifts and numerous exits. Not one of them is marked in English and they all lead to radically different parts of this hectic and complicated area.

Once outside, you are greeted by an incredible number of people crossing a massive interchange striped with many pedestrian crossings at angles to the road.

It took us twenty five minutes to get from home to Shibuya and a further hour and a half to find the school! We spent a very long time being lost. Needless to say, neither of us took in much information about the school, but Rhiannon does have the opportunity to join her class for a couple of mornings later this week. We are also invited to the school’s Christmas Show.

The following day we tried again, using a different station. This time it only took us an hour to find the school. Oh dear.

The thought of this school run twice a day is daunting and depressing. So Tim went out one evening and drew us a beautifully precise map of how to get out and where to go.

It would become my lifeline for some weeks until I got to grips with the route.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Tim has gone away on business and our luggage still hasn’t arrived! We know that it reached Japan on 31st October, so it’s just being held up in customs.

What is slightly worrying is that I am beginning to like not having loads of stuff around and, although I do miss my books, I could easily live in this minimalist way. For those of you who actually know me, you will find this extremely hard to believe. Rest assured, I am back to my normal, cluttered self!

Rhiannon has been playing computer games (educational, of course!) and hasn’t missed TV at all. But she is anxious about her toys, "I hope nobody plays with my toys before they get delivered to me", she frets.

She hasn’t got a place in school until the new term starts in January so we are able to spend some time together exploring and so on. It’s hard to know where to go when we don’t actually have anyone who can show us. Tim is busy settling into work and we don’t know any other families with children.

Rhiannon’s school in the UK kindly gave us some workbooks so my intention was to do some home tuition in the meantime. So we have been playing “schools”, but she doesn’t understand quite grasp the intention and wants to be the teacher while I play the child.

Instead, we spend a lot of time searching for food. Me = hunter-gatherer!

The supermarket is within walking distance, but not quite close enough to make it easy to carry enough shopping for more than a couple of days. But Rhiannon and I do enjoy looking at the wares even if we have no idea what they are or how to eat them.I'm sure I've seen krill in packets and some small white worms, with eyes! These are the same things we have found in the cat food… Oddly, none of the cat food contains meat – just fish. I was under the impression that cats HAD to have meat. Anyway, Inti and Raymi aren’t too impressed, but they’ll eat when they are hungry enough.

We have also found "Asparagus Biscuits", hmmm, and various green items that appear to be green tea flavoured. Not very appetising.

No 'real' meat (that's affordable) and many things that look like bits of an animal us Westerners just don't recognise anymore. And as for the mushrooms! My word, I never knew there were so many edible types. I am sure some of them are the things my mother said never to touch!

All the food we like is expensive; for example, a loaf of sliced bread (the only type available) costs about £3 for 8 slices! So I have ordered a breadmaker from the States. I couldn't bring any electronic goods with me as the voltage here is just 100V so nothing would work without a transformer. Also saw a slice of fish, about the size of a small beef steak. It was the equivalent of £75! Wow!!

I've even taken to haunting expat food websites and for a while I was actually believing it might be nice to spend £60 to have some teabags sent to me!

Even though there are lots of Christmas lights up and trees twinkling with fairy lights everywhere, Christmas isn't celebrated here and the day itself is a normal working day. Piped Christmas Carols entertain us in the stores but they are 'poppy' rather than choral.

One of our frequent expeditions is to find Christmas decorations and general bits and pieces. I was terribly organised and sent my cards before we left the UK and also bought Rhiannon's gifts - which haven't arrived yet... But we need a tree and some extra decorations.

We've also been doing a lot of walking. I cannot believe just how many stairs there are in the Metro stations and some of the distances to walk between changes are incredible. The Japanese must be very fit. I am just exhausted.

A lot of this is to do with getting very lost most of the time, but we always get home eventually.

Sunday, July 06, 2008

The following day was a Public Holiday so some friends could take us sightseeing. They showed us how to use the Metro and we quickly got the hang of getting around, but the stations themselves are challenging. Finding the right exit was initially done by trial and error - usually error - but luckily we discovered the many maps with "you are here" written in English. Also gratifying was the way that many people took pity on these poor gaijin looking lost and many times we were approached with offers of help.

Having lived in London for many years, I am used to the crowds and navigating underground railways, but Tim and Rhiannon were wide-eyed at it all. We find the Metro incredibly cheap, immaculately clean and exceptionally efficient. The large pot plants that adorn the stations amaze and cheer us, and our most used phrase about nearly all aspects of Tokyo is, "can you imagine this in the UK?!" The plants would be stolen and / or vandalised within minutes.

Despite spending her entire life deep in the suburbs of an East Midlands town, Rhiannon seems to be a natural city-girl and experienced no qualms about the crowds or the Metro, which was advantageous because our first excursion was to Shibuya; what a baptism of fire! The busiest place in Tokyo on a normal day: on a Public Holiday it was incredible. Hachiko crossing was a sea of people ambling across at less than normal walking speed.

As a blue-eyed blondie, Rhiannon gets masses of attention when we are out and about. We hear "kawaii!" (cute!) a lot and someone even told her she looked like "a doll"! She was not amused. Initially, she became cross and embarrassed about it all but soon started to enjoy the interest with a shy smile.

Our next excursion was to Asakusa, which gave us a taste of a slightly more traditional Japan, with its rows of wooden stalls leading to the Sensoji Temple. Again it was incredibly busy so we didn't stay long - just enough time to get a taste for the area and to see the famous Philippe Starck Asahi Brewery building with its golden 'flame', or 'golden poo', as it was soon christened... The building to the left represents a glass of golden beer with a foaming head.

On the way home we made our first foray to our local supermarket. We have been blessed with a nearby Marusho and didn't discover the expat essentials of Costco and Nissin for several weeks. Rhiannon expressed a desire for fish-fingers and baked beans, bless her! The look on her face was an absolute picture when she saw the extensive fish displays in Marusho. Fish fingers were quickly forgotten and she decided she wanted an octopus and some of the "pretty jewels" (glistening red salmon eggs). I had to refuse as I have no idea how to deal with an octopus and we finally settled on chicken and vegetables for the time being.

I decided to buy something unfamiliar on each shopping trip, but this hasn't been successful. The baps I bought were filled with azuki - red bean paste, which was a surprise, and not a taste we are accustomed to. Rhiannon chose something she thought were packets of sherbet that turned out to be furikake, a mix of seaweed and seeds. Surprisingly, she didn't like it - such English tastes will soon change, I'm sure.